


The Funeral of Elros

by art_of_a_diffrent_color



Series: From  Afar [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Elros' Funeral, Father-Son Relationship, Feanorian angst, Past Character Death, Silmarillion Feels, The sons of Feanor Feels, it is its own special brand of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 09:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17526338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/art_of_a_diffrent_color/pseuds/art_of_a_diffrent_color
Summary: And who attended: A brother, many friends, and a ghost of the past.





	The Funeral of Elros

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a quick little thing that I wrote one night when the idea would not leave me alone. I blame the inspiration for it entirely on @actuallyfeanor over on tumblr who is my main muse for most things Feanorian in nature.  
> Please, Read, Review, and Enjoy!

It’s a dark day and Elrond is one if many elves in attendance. He can’t help searching the crowd though, looking for a face he would know even in the dark. During the ceremony he doesn’t find them and his heart sinks because if there was one thing he was sure HE would have attended if he was still alive, it would be this one.

 

That night, as Erendil makes his journey across the sky, twinkling just a bit brighter in mourning for his son, Elrond returns to the tomb, just to have a more private good bye then the public event of the day. But when he rounds the corner he finds someone is already tomb side, long dark hair glinting in the moon light, head bowed, and kneeling.

 

Elrond is frozen, looking at this person he hadn’t truly expected to ever see again, and he watches as Maglor rises and says his last words of farewell, red cape hung around his shoulders.

 

Elrond can’t bring himself to move, can’t tear his eyes away from his foster father; can’t bring himself to interrupt this moment so clearly ment for just Maglor and Elros.

 

But Maglor turns around, shattering the moment and makes eye contact with Elrond. The Fëanorian holds out his hand, just like he used to when Elrond was little and Maglor wanted to be sure he stayed close to him. Elrond is not aware of his feet moving silent over the ground untill he has Maglors hand in his and he is crying into his fathers shoulder.

 

Maglor runs the hand not being held gently through Elronds hair, muttering words of comfort, untill the words blend into songs from the past. It is like this, held in a way that he has not been since he was a child, that Elrond finds sleep. When he wakes he is in his bed, carefully tucked under his blankets, and for a moment Elrond thinks he must have dreamt up the night before. That is until he sits up and what he had thought was his blanket pools around his waist, the distinct red cloth giving away it’s true nature.

 

Rumors float around that week that a mysterious figure had sung at the foot of Elros’ tomb. The speculation abounds, ranging from a lover coming to sing their fallen love away to Elrond himself having given his brother a last goodbye. None ever come close to the truth. Just as no one questions the red cape that Elrond wears for the duration if his stay. Some that remember the color from years gone by give him curious glances, Ereinion gives him a sad knowing smile that makes Elrond believe that he too saw the last Fëanorian and knew why he was there, but most pay it no mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Tumblr @art-of-a-diffrent-color


End file.
